


Dragon Age Assassins

by IntrovertedWife



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Assassins vs. Templars, Crime Fighting, Crossover, Flirting, M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 18:06:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15006410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntrovertedWife/pseuds/IntrovertedWife
Summary: What if various Dragon Age companions met the assassins from Assassin's Creed? Here's the first where Jacob stumbles across Anders gleefully fighting off Templars.





	Dragon Age Assassins

The clattering sounds of a fight sent Jacob careening over a pile of crates and twisting through a back alley. While he expected to find a flock of templars being bamboozled in Southwark, the man doing it confused him. Clearly not one of his Rooks, his clothing was far too threadbare to be allowed into their gang. Were those feathers upon his shoulders? Did he murder a bird on the way over? Blonde hair was tugged back into a knot without any manner of gentlemanly hat to hide it away. His cheeks were gaunt, as if he'd known hunger in his life. While the body was lean, the strength of his attacks were not.

"Ho there!" Jacob called, plummeting to the ground. His hidden blade sliced clean through two templars' throats. As their hot blood dripped off his fingers he caught the guarded brown eyes of the stranger. "What's your name?"

The man grunted, twisting his oak branch of a walking stick into a twirl to beat in the brains of an advancing brawler. "Anders," he said over his shoulder. "And you?"

"The illustrious Jacob Frye," he smiled, unsheathing his cane sword. With a flick of his wrist, Jacob drove the sword deep into a templar's gut. As the man began to keel over, he bashed him in the head with the sheathe and hurled the gold-plated top through the air into another templar's eye.

"What preciously are you doing here?" Jacob asked, his senses warning him that more Blighters were on the way.

"Killing templars," the man growled with such ferocity Jacob renewed his glimpse. But there was no hidden blade gauntlet stashed up the sleeve of his coat. No assassin mark anywhere on that lithe body. _Who was he?_

A blade flew near his ear, and Jacob spun away. _Forget the stranger, focus on the kill._ With his cane he deflected the next blow of a knife, and before the Blighter could renew his efforts, he jammed his wrist against the man's coat. The hidden blade sliced clear through the man's ribs, tickling that all important heart. He fell like a sack of wet potatoes. They weren't much of a challenge in this area.

Jacob turned to this Anders, watching as the man found himself trapped with his back to the wall below. Five of the Blighters began to advance upon him. Quickly, Jacob fished into his pocket, trying to unearth a smoke bomb, when a blare of fire erupted from the new man.

Rearing back, Jacob couldn't see what he used to unleash it, but it sent the templars scurrying away fast as you like. Their screams carried through the winding alleyways as their skin blackened to soot.

"Dear lord, what kind of a bomb was that?" Jacob asked.

Guarded eyes shifted up to the man who didn't need to rescue him. "Bomb?"

With an easy swing over the wall partition, Jacob landed beside the stranger. He jerked his head to the branch the man held gripped safe in his hands, "That's a good sized stick for you to be brandishing."

For a breath, Anders eyes drifted up to the odd red-crystal topper, then down to the wicked blade at the end. A sly look rose as he turned to Jacob, "I'm quite skilled with well-sized equipment."

 _Well, well._ Jacob held his ground even as a wave of surprise washed over him. He'd never met anyone quite so bold of tongue before.

"I like your coat," Anders said, tossing his good-sized-stick from one hand to the other.

Jacob drew his fingers against the scruff at his chin as he stared up at the broken windows. Over his shoulder he whispered, his voice low in a growl, "You should see what I keep under it."

The stranger laughed, "After you buy me a drink first."

"That..." Jacob began, when he felt it. A templar watchdog running towards them, gun extended with the barrel aimed to fire through Anders' handsome skull. The man raised his fist as if he intended to punch through ten feet of air.

With a flick of his wrist, Jacob hurled a knife. Its blade embedded deep into the templar's eye socket. As the head tipped backwards, the body crumpling to the ground, so too went the arm. A final, death-throe shot rang out in the air. Which invited the Coppers on them.

He slapped Anders' arm and the two took off in the direction away from the oncoming problems. "So, about that drink?" Jacob began.

The stranger laughed, "Only if you're buying."

"I might have a few quid to my name," Jacob attacked him with his most dazzling smile. When Anders nodded in agreement, Jacob laughed, "Meet me at the cornerstone pub." Twisting his arm out, he launched his rappelling hook up to snag upon a bent sign at the top of the roof.

As his body leapt through the air, feet bounding against walls, he heard Anders shout, "You better not expect me to do that. I can barely jump."


End file.
